


Race Wish

by Karin (Karinpon)



Series: Mid-life Princess [5]
Category: D (Band), Hizaki Grace Project, Kamijo (Musician) RPF, Versailles (Band)
Genre: Anal, Anal Sex, Bathroom Sex, Body Modification, Bondage, Coprophagia, Coprophilia, Crossdressing, Double Penetration in One Hole, Europe, Foursome, Gangbang, Gay Sex, Guro, Immortality, Interracial Relationship, Japanese Character(s), Latex, M/M, Multi, Musicians, Oral, Oral Sex, POV Third Person Omniscient, Parasites, RPF, Racism, Sixsome, Visual Kei, Yaoi, human toilet, ultimate womanly pleasure, urinal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 18:33:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9561593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karinpon/pseuds/Karin
Summary: Princess Hizaki's European Tour, managed by Kamijou, is also a sex tour. The manager brings his toilet along for the ride. Expectations of profit are high.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Toilet, The Princess, and the New Hole](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9500987) by [Karin (Karinpon)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karinpon/pseuds/Karin), [Sexsuna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sexsuna/pseuds/Sexsuna). 



The decadent aristocrat chatted with the foreign men in his “English,” which was not likely much better than Hizaki’s. They weren’t even in a territory where spoken English predominated, but most of the Europeans seemed to speak it better than Kamijou.

Many areas of Europe were fully as diverse as the U.S.A., in racial terms, and that, combined with generally happier attitudes towards prostitution, made a European Tour perfect for their designs. After a solo guitar performance to be proud of, Hizaki sat, elegantly attired in a great, white dress—cheaper than it looked—upon a leather sofa in the venue’s basement, which could only be accessed with a backstage pass.

Kamijou checked the passes, the tickets, while Hizaki waited to be used in the best of ways.

Perhaps he was a weirdo, always so anticipating sex with big, burly, foreign men, who tended to delight him by mistaking him for a young girl, despite his having been over forty years old when the alien parasite stopped him getting older—he _was_ rather short, and Kamijou always called him pretty. But weird or no, this was how he wanted to live, the kind of experience he wanted to have when not making beautiful music for people. His sex had been replaced with a fuck-hole anyway, so he wasn’t exactly a man any longer.

The men started pouring down the stairs, colours ranging from snow white to blackest ebony, all very large-bodied, a lot of them with more hair on their faces and arms than on their heads. That kind of stark masculinity pleased Hizaki to be around; it made him feel quite lovely by comparison.

Their ugly faces pointed at him impatiently; those that could understand Kamijou’s speech knew that they were to wait for his signal, and those that could not were restrained by the hesitance of the greater majority. Hizaki pulled up the front of his voluminous skirts, exposing the white silken stockings and garters above the knees of his matching latex boots; and between his thighs, his bald, dainty fuck-hole—not as tight as his anus, but prettier to look upon in his mind. He penetrated himself with his middle finger, putting on a show to prepare the men.

His finger’s entry was made easy by the wetness of the new hole, a wetness of sweat and old semen, which he had surprisingly little trouble holding inside for a while. The lumbering foreign strangers began to display their magnificent cocks, all extremely large to Hizaki, who was small. Seeing some really dark ones made his heart race; maybe they were bigger, or maybe the contrast with lighter-skinned fellows made them appears so—it didn’t matter. His middle and ring fingers inside his neo-vagina, he thrust.

“Begin!” Kamijou said in English, making a dramatic gesture. It was the signal. He removed the cordon, and a slew of big, ugly foreigners with big, beautiful cocks approached.

They were foreigners to Hizaki, though this was their home, and he but a kind of sex tourist. He hoped they would be gentler than they looked. The first man in, white, had a hideous, square face, but everything else about him impressed—even his hair was in an acceptable longish style. The next man had no hair, but otherwise appeared very similar, a little shorter, a little bulkier. Then came a thin, brown man with curly black hair of medium length, and a goatee, his cock exceptional in that it had a curve like a scimitar, and was even darker than the rest of him. One, two, and three; when they passed the cordoned area, Kamijou secured it again.

“We don’t want to scare the princess so soon,” he said. “Three gentlemen at a time will do for now, but you have the privilege of watching till it’s your turn!” Even those men who could not understand his terrible English must have understood the intent, for all of them merely stood, stroked, and observed, no signs of upset. Well-behaved barbarians.

Hizaki took his digits out of his cunt as Number One stood over him, his mouth immediately drawn to the inflamed organ wielded by the European. Two and Three brought their weapons as well, and Hizaki took them one in either hand as he ran his tongue over One, pinching the shaft skin now and again with his lips. The pink-and-white organ twitched, throbbing; its wielder grunted, and rudely grabbed Hizaki’s head, trying to force him to swallow it.

He didn’t resist. Resistance would lack the feminine charm he hoped to affect. Instead, he took it to the back of his throat, nearly vomiting. He had practised suppressing his gag reflex just so he could get his throat fucked by more big men. He squeezed the cock that had gone so far beyond his lips with his tongue and throat as it withdrew, creating immense suction he was sure bordered on painful—if the foreign men felt like he wanted to devour their cocks, all the better.

“Ah-h!” One said, “I’m going to come too soon!”

Hizaki found the European’s strangely accented English more understandable than Kamijou’s. He eased up, determining that the night would go on longer if the men had more control. He wanted to be here till morning. Number Three’s scimitar came up to his face, and he switched his mouth’s attentions to that, patting the sofa cushion beside him so One would sit down; between licks of the curved, brown weapon, Hizaki straddled One’s lap, lifting his skirts, his backside facing the man, inviting him to do what he would. Two got closer, and received Hizaki’s hand around his cock, where it presently belonged.

And as expected, One held onto Hizaki’s hips and trained him down on his wet cock. There was an art to ensuring everyone got his fair share, and it only required a little mobility and a little consideration, and only a toilet could be more considerate than Princess Hizaki. A whole lot less mobile, however.

Asagi, for example, had been installed, by means of red patent leather straps, in the nearest restroom. This much Kamijou had told Hizaki; he had bound him to a urinal, he’d said, so whoever of their VIPs needed to relieve himself could give him what he wanted in his master’s absence.

It wasn’t an enviable position in Hizaki’s mind. He didn’t mind being pissed on, and he loved getting semen on him, but he’d never grow fond of the smell of excrement, or brown stains on his dresses—even the many dresses he had that were made specifically to be dirtied with fuck. Two stepped closer, prodding Hizaki’s cheek with his white cock. The princess alternated sucking Two and Three, while One slipped inside him, stretched his arsehole, rubbed his prostate. Hizaki wondered if that was the hole the man meant, but saw no reason to question it; his arse-cunt had seen use far longer than he even had one in the front, and the choice freed up his front for either of the two gentlemen he sucked on.

Scimitar took the initiative, prying apart Hizaki’s legs (farther than they were) and preparing to cut into his belly, while Number Two moved up and to the side, getting his mouth all to himself. Three drove his misshapen brown cock into the princess’ front; there was pain, and a great wave of pleasure as Hizaki’s prostate became squeezed between two big cocks. A cock in each hole at once: this was the Ultimate Womanly Pleasure he’d heard, or imagined he’d heard, spoken of.

Of course, women didn’t have prostates; but the feeling of being stuffed full of cocks alone was an immense pleasure. Having once been able to call himself a man, the princess could enjoy it doubly.

Two fucked his throat, One fucked his arse, and Three fucked his cunt. Three men giving him all the attention he could ever want—the utmost intimacy, even if they did view him as little more than a toy. He liked not being expected to work for his pleasure, although he had got quite good at that kind of work.

Maybe, he thought, just a little effort should go towards bringing about more men’s chances to play with him. He squeezed with his arsehole. One bellowed something to signify completion, another’s turn.

#

The lavatory was well kept for a public facility; not a smidgeon of graffiti adorned its walls.

Asagi waited, attired in a skimpy, black latex dress with a pleated miniskirt, besides which he wore thigh-high boots with platforms and high, chunky heels, and a pair of gloves all to match. He could do nothing but wait, bound as he was, sitting over the drain of a urinal, his wrists tied to the piping above him, his knees tied at the back of the urinal, forcing his thighs apart. He was Kamijou’s toilet, being put out for use by VIPs.

His cock stood erect, free of any sheath or catheter or other bondage for the first time in a while. Master had said paying customers expected toilets with handles, and so his had to be exposed. The skirt certainly couldn’t hide it. He wondered if anyone would bother to flush him.

Many minutes must have passed when someone entered the restroom. A European with untamed hair on his head as well as his body, standing nude below the hem of his black shirt; he could see Asagi immediately on entering. He seemed slightly taken aback, but after a moment mumbled, “I guess I have to relieve myself on this transvestite.”

Asagi wasn’t confident enough in his English to offer verbal encouragement; instead, he swivelled his hips, his erect cock gently stabbing the air. The man approached impatiently, stroking his own much larger cock, pointing it at Asagi’s face. Soon followed a staccato stream of piss, for which the toilet opened his mouth, extended his tongue. The man moved closer, shoving his pissing cock in Asagi’s open mouth. His lips tightened around it as he swallowed all that came.

The man grunted when he had finished, but didn’t retrieve himself from Asagi’s mouth, because Asagi was making him hard with his restless tongue. “Ah,” the European said, “you trannies always were the best cocksuckers. But the girl outside is also good. I’ll have to wait a while for another go, but you’ll have me enjoy the wait, no?”

Asagi managed a curt, falsetto moan as he sucked.

“Hey,” the man said, gently gripping Asagi’s head. “I may have to shit, but I can’t shit on you with your cock hard like that—I might get fucked! So I’ll use one of the other toilets when you’ve had a meal of jizz.” He throat-fucked Asagi as he spoke. The toilet would have tried to protest the decision otherwise. He was eager to taste a European’s shit.

Finishing down Asagi’s gullet, the man pulled out, smacked him with his slackening length once on either cheek, and went into a stall to perform his misappropriation. It all happened so fast, and Asagi couldn’t find understandable words that would get him what he wanted in time. But there would come others. He looked forward to big, shitty foreigners without any such misguided consideration.

#

“There are more VIPs than I expected,” said Kamijou in his shit English. “So the princess will welcome five at a time!”

And with the removal of the cordon, a fresh batch of men came to Hizaki, who lay supine on the couch, his mind tired as he daydreamed of what was to come, his hand restless as he could not stop idly touching himself all over. His fingers swam in the semen left in his cunt; the next contenders looked down on him.

One had ruddy skin and a full, brown beard that extended down his torso; another had a smaller black beard, shaven head, and paler complexion; then there was a fellow with a red, braided beard, the long hair on his head being braided as well; a less girthy younger man with barely a five-days-beard; and last, but not least, a man black as night with no beard at all. They all wanted to fuck him, Hizaki thought excitedly, approaching climax from the mere thought.

They laid their hands on him, caressing him, pushing him, talking among themselves, laying out a plan of attack. He braced himself, for it was likely to get rough. Redbeard replaced Hizaki’s fingers with his own, shoving two fat digits in his cunt without a word of warning. Stroking themselves, the others watched the finger-fuck; the man was tenderising meat for them to share.

Brownbeard, unable to resist any longer, got a knee over Hizaki’s torso on the couch, the head of his cock pressing against the princess’ lips, which did not remain closed for long. And he could not see who did this as hairy balls graced his chin, but Blackbeard took his wrist which hung off the cushion and brought it over to his cock, which Hizaki’s hand found immediately, taking hold and treating as well as it could, given the circumstances.

The young man and the black man, Youngbeard and Nobeard, contented themselves with watching for now; the former due to a hesitation to bump shoulders with those bigger, hairier guys; the latter due to wanting nothing more than the little Japanese girl’s arse. Each knew his time would come.

After a hard finger-fuck, Redbeard withdrew, and came forward with his cock, about as thick and long as Hizaki’s forearm. The princess begged for the member, thrusting his hips up towards it as it sought entry. Penetration was painful, no matter how well he’d been prepared, but the pain didn’t last; when the man had stuffed himself a little over halfway in, a pleasant, numbing warmth spread throughout Hizaki’s body. The feeling that followed was pure pleasure, his cunt gripping tight—not as strong as his arsehole, but sufficient.

Redbeard moaned, speeding up. Brownbeard’s cock managed a bent entry into Hizaki’s throat, so he could only breathe with his nose, breathe in the sweaty arse-smell of the foreigners. His hand could not work well like this, so Blackbeard had taken to using it like a sex toy, folding it around his cock and thrusting. After a short while Redbeard lifted Hizaki up, sitting on the sofa while Hizaki straddled his thighs, cunt remaining occupied. Now his arse was free for all, and almost immediately did Nobeard squeeze the princess’ buttocks and slip his cock between them. Hizaki could handle a dry-fuck in his arse, not a problem, unless the member possessed incredible proportions.

And it almost did.

Impatient, Youngbeard stepped up on the sofa beside Redbeard, Blackbeard now standing on the other side. Their cocks met on the princess’ bottom lip. Hizaki tended to both with his lips and tongue as he impaled his front on the man who sat beneath him, and as a cock the colour of obsidian lodged itself in his rear, stretching, tearing; he cried as two white members crossed over his tongue, fucking his cheeks.

And Brownbeard complained, “There are no vacancies in this whore,” being unwilling to settle for a skilled hand as his cock throbbed and glistened with saliva. Nobeard came to his aid, wrapping ten long, black fingers around the princess’ waist and climbing up to the edge of the sofa. Everyone was a little upset by this motion, but quickly found his place again, and now Brownbeard could push into Hizaki’s cunt from behind, his cock parallel with Redbeard’s, two in one hole. There was no mistaking the reasoning behind Nobeard’s initiative.

All of a sudden, Hizaki found himself in immense pain, and cried even as he did his best to please two men at once with his slobbering mouth. He’d become a pincushion, five meaty pins at once, no hands. Blood leaked out of his backside, but not too much; and he could ignore the pain. This was the real ultimate womanly pleasure, he thought, somewhat delirious though this conviction would never change.

He hurt inside, his prostate crushed by three big, heaving cocks, the line between arse and cunt wearing thin. This was something only a few very special women experienced, and the princess was happy as any physical sensation could make him. He may have been afraid, too, if he were still mortal.

Three penises stabbing him, destroying him, or so it felt—but he doubted he’d look much the worse for wear after a few minutes’ rest, thanks to the parasite deep within his bowels. Three ruined his rear, and two took quick turns fucking his throat and smacking his face. Everyone seemed to be enjoying himself, even those among the waiting, sometimes noisy crowd.

But nobody was more pleased than Kamijou, who had nothing to show for how very pleased he was. A throbbing erection, of course, but he did not take it out. He merely spectated with glee, and anticipated his profits with double glee.

Not one second could not be used.

#

Asagi’s cock had gone limp. A toilet’s handle broken, because Europeans were too polite. Far too polite, he thought. Nobody would give him shit, and he knew not how to ask for it.

He only got piss. Semen and piss. When one had become quite used to those, they were little less dull than water from a tap. Sleep began to take hold, even tied as he was in such an uncomfortable position. And for a moment, he slept.

A manhandling awoke him. He opened his eyes upon the surly visage of another European, this one very pale, with black and plentiful hair everywhere but at his crown, where it had been close-cropped. At first he seemed fat, but as he took a step back, Asagi saw that he was merely thick with hard muscle. The ferocity in the man’s form, as well as his icy blue eyes, began to make the toilet’s handle perk up.

“So what,” he said in English with a thick accent that would have seemed foreigner than foreign, had Asagi been familiar with the language. “The girly boy wants to be a toilet?” The European began to stroke his already hard dick. “Say nothing, I know you are just a toilet, and I will use you as one.”

He grabbed Asagi’s cock with his big, furry hand that wasn’t preoccupied, and tugged it roughly a few times, bringing the toilet handle to full erection. Then he turned his backside towards him, slipping Asagi’s prick between two hard, hairy buttocks, the head pointed toward the man’s balls. For a moment the toilet wondered if the man wanted to be penetrated. Then he farted, spattering a small amount of hot, wet faecal matter on the top of Asagi’s shaft.

The toilet’s heart throbbed, as did his cock; this was what he’d been waiting for. He moaned quietly, and there followed more farts from the muscular European’s arse, each one blowing a kiss of warm, sticky shit. The man moaned, too—more a growl—and he had moved past his warm, wet, shitty farts; now he sprayed shit, groaning, all over Asagi’s erect cock, his testicles, and his thighs. Impressed and enthralled, the toilet ejaculated a little just from that.

Then the man took a step away, turning. He looked Asagi up and down. “Oh, you came,” he said. “All of you faggots are into shit like this, aren’t you?” He grabbed Asagi’s cock once more, stroking it as it was covered in shit. “I’m not a faggot, but I like to shit on a girly boy. Hey, can you reach?” He clutched a tuft of Asagi’s hair, dragging his head down toward his huge, throbbing cock. Automatically, the toilet’s mouth began to work on him.

After a moment, the man reached behind himself, pulling a clump of mushy, caked shit from out between his arsecheeks, which he proceeded to smear all over his own cock even as Asagi teased it with his tongue and lips. It only made him work harder, the taste, the smell—especially the smell. “Guess you don’t need to be told to clean it, huh?” the European said. “If all faggots are like you, I might keep one as a pet.”

Asagi continued in silence, unable to understand most of what the man said, and not really caring to understand or, at this point, to respond with anything other than a show of gratitude with his mouth. His head swam amid the strong aroma; his tongue and lips travelled the entire length, all the way to the man’s balls, scooping and sucking up whatever they found. He came again, and a moment later, the European came in his hair.

It was normal for toilets to get dirty. For Asagi, it was exciting. The man left him in a constant state of arousal with semen in his hair, shit staining his face, and coating his throbbing cock. Perhaps, he thought, the way he now looked would signal clearly to the next comers exactly what he needed. This wait he would enjoy.

#

It was late. Hizaki could tell, because they’d started into the evening, and a significant portion of men had opted not to stick around for a second go. The princess ached all over, each VIP having had at least one go, but still it felt like a pleasant, vivid dream; one that was about to end, though the men who fucked him presently remained energetic. Hizaki enjoyed giving them nicknames in his head while they enjoyed him.

Gundam, a young European clad in metal, had lodged his rifle barrel in Hizaki’s cunt, slamming it in all the way to the balls again and again; its shape was such that it could have caused him to haemorrhage had he not been immortal. That was fun to think of as he lay with his back on the sofa cushion, legs in the air, and took it, while a less distinctive European knelt beside him and fucked his throat. From his other side, a big, fat cock rubbed his cheek, wrapped itself in his hair, and seemed fairly content with that as it drivelled semen.

Few men, as it turned out, were willing to add up to five, to grant the princess his ultimate womanly pleasure. Backwards, he thought; Europeans were so _backwards._ But three at a time served well enough as the night wore on.

And at long last, he sat on the sofa, legs spread, holes burning, sticky all over, with nobody to occupy him, for all very important persons had gone home, or bar hopping, or whatever it was they did at this hour. “Kamijou-sama,” he said dreamily, “what time is it?”

The aristocratic panderer stood just outside the cordoned off area, nodding off against a wall. “Oh, are we done?” He spoke Japanese now. “I hope I did not sleep through the best part!”

The best part, Hizaki decided, had happened long before Kamijou had fallen asleep—but he gave no indication one way or another. “What time is it?” he repeated. Kamijou had an expensive watch, and probably a smartphone on him as well, whereas all Hizaki had was a brilliant, slightly tattered, very soiled dress.

“It is five on the dot, Hizaki-chan. In the morning.”

So his sense of time had not departed him. It was about the time he’d felt it was. And he had to take a shit, he realised, standing up. “Kamijou-sama, can you not escort a lady to the toilet?”

“It would be my honour!” The aristocrat bowed dramatically, offering his hand. That money-grubbing hand. Hizaki took it automatically, and he led him up some stairs and down some corridor, till they stood before an alcove that branched off to two doors, one marked as a men’s restroom, and another marked as a women’s. Though the princess cared not either way, Kamijou remembered where he had left his toilet, and so showed the princess in through the door marked men’s.

His property should use his property, he figured.

Immediately upon entering, Hizaki covered his nose. Asagi could be seen straight ahead, tied sitting, legs spread, to a urinal, facing out, besmeared with shit all over. The stench offended the princess at first, but it wasn’t so bad once he’d spent a few seconds in its midsts, acknowledging that he was meant to contribute to it. And he couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“The toilet I want you to use,” said the aristocrat pointlessly, “is Asagi-chan. Give him all you’ve got!”

Already the princess hiked up his skirts, pointed his rear at Asagi’s cock—fully erect, though the toilet himself seemed half asleep—and blew a gas bubble of semen, which proceeded to pop under the weight of a greenish-brown river. The toilet, suddenly lucid, cried with pleasure as liquid shit splashed on his latex-clad abdomen, his throbbing cock, and his balls. There could never be enough for him.

Nor could there ever be too much for Kamijou. Their humble host and sponsor, benefactor and proprietor, Kamijou glanced at a camera in the corner of the lavatory, trained directly on the sight and transmitting to his data bank raw footage of a quality that belied its inconspicuous appearance. It would all be of use to him, and by extension, to them. “The two of you performed beautifully tonight,” he said by way of congratulations. “Hizaki-hime especially. Why don’t you take this treat while you empty your bowels?”

For the first time in several hours, Kamijou let out his big, hard, circumcised cock, just for the princess to suck on. And the gift was received readily, no matter how preoccupied the princess may have been.

**Author's Note:**

> Does this count as "Bizarro"? I should think nothing is surprising by now.


End file.
